Missing Pieces
by MidnightIndigo
Summary: There was always something missing when they fought.  Was it gone for good?


**A/N: Thought of this in church on Sunday, hope you like it. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. I know...it's sad. **

Angry. So angry. It was probably a good thing she was off duty and her gun was locked in her drawer at home, because she'd have ended up in an interrogation room on the wrong side of the table within hours. She stormed down the stairs, having decided she couldn't stand still long enough to take the elevator, and stomped outside the lobby. The doorman, noticing her expression, wisely kept his head down as he held open the glass door.

It was dark and the snow was piled high against the buildings, but she didn't try to navigate the dirty slush. Instead she stood in the light streaming through the door, casting an impressive long shadow, arms crossed and feet slightly apart.

Everything had fallen apart, like she'd known it would from the beginning. Castle had talked once about tiny and yang, but they were just too different, so opposite that it couldn't work, and now it never would. This was exactly why she'd resisted for so long, denied him at every turn, trying to avoid this heartbreaking final straw that they'd hit tonight.

This was like losing a piece of herself, a feeling of overwhelming dread that had settled into the place in her heart he'd gradually worked his way into. This was different than losing her mom, which had been so sudden, she'd been in a shocked state of disbelief for weeks, months even. Nbut this was like facing two closed doors—beyond one was bliss, the other held despair. She'd only had one chance, and she'd chosen wrong.

Facing the world, Kate Beckett felt so small, like she was in over her head and everything was coming for her, trying to beat her down until she'd crumpled under the weight of the sky. She wasn't Atlas, she was just human, and how long was she expected to survive like this? When she'd joined the NYPD she'd only thought of justice, but now she knew that this job, this life she'd chosen, was just one tragedy after another, and when tragedy crossed over into her own life, once again, she didn't think she could take it.

Whether because of the cold or the feeling that she couldn't do it anymore, she stated to shiver, and snowflakes had begun to fall once more. New York was in a suspended state of extreme winter, and it seemed too often that spring would never come. Perhaps it never would.

In the light from the lobby, Kate lost the strength fueled by adrenaline and anger that had kept her upright for the past few minutes. She slumped slightly, all the fight gone out of her. She held onto a parking meter to keep her from sinking into the wet snow. The frozen metal stung her skin. She'd forgotten her gloves, coat, and hat in her haste to get out of his apartment, and now she wished she'd had the foresight to grab them. She'd even left her purse, in it her money, keys, and badge—all necessities. But she was far too stubborn to go back up, because then it looked like she was giving in, making her dramatic exit pointless. And then he would be able to get her to let him come back, as he always did. Not this time. She wasn't giving in. If he wanted to make things right, he'd have to come back to her.

Finally she staggered back to the lobby steps, which had been cleared of sludge, and collapsed against the building. Tears streamed from her eyes, through her fingers and onto the ground, where they quickly hardened into ice. She rubbed her arms. It was really cold. Why hadn't she thought to grab her jacket? She sniffles, feeling like her nose was about to freeze.

Everything was ruined now, everything was over. He wouldn't shadow her anymore. Their partnership was through for good and she knew it. So many times she'd told him it was done and hadn't really meant it, had hoped that he'd find a way back, but this wasn't just her telling him to leave, this was completely out of her control. God, why had she even fought with him?

Emotions had been running high. They'd recently finished a case which had kept them running for days with little sleep. In addition they'd ended up at each other's throats over one of their suspects, who'd played with them to turn them against each other. In the end the killer, a serial, had killed six people, including two children and a teenage girl. The stress of that certainly hadn't helped the situation. So when he'd offered to cook her dinner, as he often did after cases these days, she should've known, volatile and stubborn as they both were by nature, that they'd end up yelling. But she'd agreed anyways, and it hadn't ended well.

Kate wiped the tears away suddenly. She'd put up a facade for so long that it seemed natural to return to it. She was the strong one, the one who didn't cry, who kept going after everyone else was down. She cried, but she never let anyone see. If she did she'd no longer be the stoic, strong, focused Detective Beckett everyone saw. She became the emotional, broken Kate who didn't let a day go by where she didn't think of what could've been, the woman who hardly anyone knew existed. It was dangerous when someone did.

He knew her. He was one of the few people who had broken down her defenses and managed to make her love him. That was dangerous. That meant that there was a ticking time bomb between them because them being together, even in the same room, was no longer safe. It seemed as if the countdown had reached zero and it had finally blown up in their faces. After everything they'd worked for, everything they'd built, this catalyst had caused it all to crumble.

She sobbed, her head dropping into her hands. In a way she'd been in a bit of shock now as well. She didn't want everything to change. She'd gotten used to him always being there, sitting in the chair next to her desk, or beside her in the interrogation room, or close next to her, so close she was practically on his lap, sitting on the couch watching a movie at one in the morning. All of that was over now, but she wanted it back. Maybe she could've tried to get it back, too, if she wasn't who she was, if she didn't have to prove she was right even when she wasn't. Neither of them had been right tonight, and neither had wanted to admit it.

She felt someone step down the steps above her, barely to her left, and hoped that the person would ignore her and go around. She certainly wasn't going to move. But the footsteps paused a step above her as the person knelt down and placed a coat around her shoulders. Her coat. She pulled it tightly around herself instinctively without having really registered who had to have put it on her.

He sat down slowly, putting one arm around her shoulders and rubbing her arm. "Kate."

"Go away," she snapped.

"You're going to get hypothermia," he insisted.

"What do you want?" she asked, still not looking up at him. Once she met his eyes, she knew, her stubborn shield would crumble along with everything else.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—I mean—nothing I said meant anything. I don't want to stop being your partner, nor do I think you're the last person I'd ever want to be with. And I certainly don't regret ever meeting you."

She didn't say anything, and neither did her, for a moment. He just held onto her, keeping her warm. Finally he continued. "Kate, please don't push me away. I know you've been working for days on this case. I just want to make sure you know that I'm sorry. So I guess if we really are through, I want you to know that I love you. I love you so, so much."

"Why do you always do that?" she whispered.

"Do what?" he asked in bewilderment.

"You get me so mad and then you make it all better with your smooth talk. You've been spinning words so long that you don't even realize you're doing it! It's manipulative!"

She made the mistake of looking back at his face. He looked so gentle and earnest, like a puppy who knows he's done something wrong and isn't quite sure how to make it better. Her breath caught in her throat and a fresh wave of tears rose to her eyes. She tried to swallow and found that she couldn't.

"I'm sorry Kate, I don't want to manipulate you. I don't want to hurt you, but I know I did." He pressed his lips to her temple. "Please let me make it up to you."

"How do you expect me to keep doing this?" she wondered. "It's like an emotional roller coaster but somehow I can never get myself to get off because as much as I hate roller coasters, I love them. And as much as being with you puts me through, I love you."

"What do I need to do?" he pressed.

"You need to listen," she replied instantly. "I swear sometimes you talk just to hear yourself talk."

"Done. Anything else?"

"That's not going to be a problem for you?" she mocked bitterly. She immediately regretted the comment—she couldn't handle one fight, let alone two in a half hour—but rather than retorting, he just answered, "Maybe it will be a problem. Who knows? But it would be much worse to lose you." He pulled her to him, onto his shoulder, and she let him fit her back in perfectly, like it was her destiny to sit this close to him on the steps of an apartment building and feel like the pieces had once again fallen back into place. The part of her that had been momentarily missing appeared once more, dread gone as she leaned into the space between his neck and his shoulder, his face buried in her hair.

Kate knew that this peace wouldn't last forever. It would be hard at times, seemingly unreachable, and they might lose it for a while. But like that missing puzzle piece, it would turn up eventually. And spring would come. They'd make it through. They always did and always would.

Because neither of them could live without the other. They were partners, each other's missing piece. Without each other, Kate Beckett and Rick Castle weren't complete.

**A/N: Hope you liked it! Also, for anyone reading The Evanescence Files, I promise there's a chapter on the way. Please review! :)**


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